


Tomorrow

by Shinsun



Series: Girl With Golden Eyes [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Anger, Angst, Artistic Liberties, Blatant Inaccuracies, Canes, Crutches, Debilitating Leg Injuries, Hospitals, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mid-Epilogue Side-Stories, Plenty Of Sap, Suspension Of Disbelief, Swearing, Wheelchairs, White Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 07:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5282705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinsun/pseuds/Shinsun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Girl With Golden Eyes one-shot, this one also named after a Sixx AM song. This is set smack in the middle of the epilogue, about a year after the events of chapter 13...but I don’t think you need to read that story in order to read this one. </p><p>Basically Aomine and Kagami have been dating for years, Aomine had a heroin addiction which he's recently gotten clean of, and they’re both trying to go on with their lives in the aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> ((Remember this old story? Yeah, lately I’ve been kind of in and out of this fandom, and have been meaning to finish this little one-shot for a couple weeks. Getting back into this fic I loved to death while writing was kind of...just what I needed. Of course it's full of even more blatant inaccuracies, artistic liberties, angst, sap, hospital scenes and terrible life choices...so strap in, and let’s get this party started (again).
> 
> Also yes I changed which team Kagami played for from the Hurricanes to the Lakers, in this and the original fic, because it made more sense for him to move from Japan to LA than Japan to Miami, especially since he lived in LA before...which I kinda knew from the beginning, I only picked the Hurricanes before because it was a smaller, less renowned team that was more likely to take him. But since we're breaking the rules, *shrug*, let's go all the way.))

Kagami was stiff and limping, but he wasn’t about to show it. He was already regarded as one of the weaker members of the team due to his lack of stamina; he ran out of breath quicker, broke into a sweat earlier, collapsed hard against the lockers after nearly every warmup and workout, fighting desperately for air.

 

If he’d known the full effect smoking for three years was going to have on his performance as an athlete, he might have given it up a lot sooner.

 

In any case, he didn’t need anything else to hurt his reputation, while he was graciously being allowed a spot in the Lakers’ starting lineup. It was an honor to play with his teammates, a privilege, and it could be so easily revoked. The only reason it hadn’t been already, Kagami suspected, was because of the enormous power of his spring-loaded jumps and shattering dunks that had knocked aside adversaries like bowling pins and paved the way clear to his team’s victory several times this season. He was too valuable a trump card to be tossed aside because of some damaged hardware, but that insurance was flimsy, and certainly wasn’t indefinite.

 

So he kept pushing despite the uneven, uncomfortable stride that had been plaguing him since waking up this morning and going through his morning run, his breath misting in front of him as he diligently worked through the protests of his aching muscles and joints. He’d blamed the cold, then, and then the humidity, when the sun finally rose and banished the chill. Now he was beginning to suspect he might have pulled something, but he wasn’t about to let up in his team’s time of greatest need; he had a game to win, and a little soreness wasn’t going to stop him from giving everything he had.

 

Besides, he couldn’t afford to slack off when he knew Aomine was in the stands, watching his every move. He was there to give his support, naturally, but there was also something that spoke of vicarious longing in his insistence on showing up to every single one of Kagami’s games, from the very start of his career. He couldn’t play at this level anymore; a single game would probably incapacitate him. He did try to keep the sport he loved in his life however he could, but both of them knew there was a world of difference between messing around on the street court and playing a real, professional game. Watching was the only way he could participate in the thrill he had put every facet of his being into, once upon a time, and with stakes like his disappointment on the line, Kagami couldn’t bear to fall short of spectacular.

 

And so it was that with all this riding on his mind, he intercepted the ball and took off across the court, muscles burning savagely as he crouched to jump before the towering hoop. He let out a shuddering breath as he set up his aim, almost hearing the seconds ticking by on the clock, and extended his legs, surging up, up, up…

 

As he left the ground, vicious steel pincers of agony grabbed him around the knees and he pitched forward, the ball slipping from his grasp almost in slow motion before he crashed to the floor with a startled, strangled yelp, cut off abruptly as the impact knocked the wind out of him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gasped like a fish on dry land for several torturous moments, his scarred and shriveled lungs on fire, before blessed air finally rushed into him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he coughed weakly and braced his hands against the ground to try to lift himself, only to shudder and collapse against the cold, polished floorboards once again. Every inch of his body was crawling with stabbing, wrenching pain, but the worst of it seemed to emanate from his lower half, as if his legs were being chewed up by droves of enormous fire ants. Heaving for air and gritting his teeth together hard, he rested his cheek against the floor, and as his vision started to swim before him, he heard a distant shriek of a whistle, then dozens of squeaking footfalls and urgent voices, a very familiar one shouting something from far away that faded into the backdrop of the pounding of his head.

 

X

 

They said he wouldn’t walk again. Kagami wanted to lash out, to punch something, to throw something across the cramped, sterilized room. He vented his frustration and fury by glaring murderously at the ceiling, as if he could bring it crashing down with just the fire of his gaze. But there was no alleviating the rest of the tangle of emotions swirling inside him. Despair. Grief. Even a tinge of fear. And above all the overwhelming feeling that he didn’t deserve this. He hadn’t done anything at all to warrant this punishment.

 

He was really starting to loathe hospitals. He’d still been conscious when he was placed on a stretcher and rushed into the ambulance parked outside of the stadium, but he’d been out of it, barely able to discern physical sensations or specific people or objects, or make sense of anything. He could barely remember that he’d glimpsed Aomine for a brief moment before the ambulance doors swung shut, but he remembered _hearing_ him; demanding he be allowed to join Kagami as he was shuttled to the hospital, claiming to be family, claiming to be his spouse -- which he wasn’t, and at this point his argument was far from convincing  -- and frantically, stubbornly insisting someone tell him what had happened, what Kagami’s condition was and if he would be alright. All of his effort proved to be of no use, and he was brushed aside and left behind as the ambulance pulled away, but that didn’t stop him from pursuing it, and continuing to do whatever it took to be allowed to see Kagami with his own eyes and know he was okay. He didn’t accept the nurses’ comforting words, he didn’t accept attempts to change the subject, and it was over a day later that Kagami learned he hadn’t budged from the chair he’d staked out in the waiting room, all night long, and hadn’t slept a wink.

 

When he finally was allowed to see Kagami, he didn’t burst through the doors to his room, as Kagami half-expected after his hysterics earlier. He didn’t rush to his bedside or clasp his hand or even say anything for a good few minutes. He just traipsed numbly over to him and sat down, not taking his eyes off of him for a moment, as if afraid he might vanish if he looked away. When he finally did speak, his voice was quiet and hoarse.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Kagami didn’t know what to say. The compelling, piercing blue eyes boring into his own, shadowed underneath with dark, sleepless crescents that almost looked like bruises, seemed to will him to answer yes, to put Aomine out of his desperate worry and panic, but he wasn’t sure if it was true.

 

They said he wouldn’t walk again.

 

_‘Are you okay?’_

_Fuck._

_‘Lateral collateral ligament tear…’_

_Fuck._

_‘Compound fracture of the tibia and patella…’_

_Fuck!_

_‘Are you okay?’_

 

“Yeah,” he forced out, tearing his eyes away from Aomine’s and fixing them on the pale mauve windowless wall beside his bed, “I’m okay.”

 

_...Fuck._

 

Aomine seemed relieved, just to hear him speak, but Kagami got the feeling he wasn’t convinced that he meant what he said. Which, hell, he couldn’t even convince himself, how could he hope to convince anyone else, especially him?

 

He had been trying to prevent himself from flashing back to the last time they’d both been in a hospital room, their current roles reversed, but he couldn’t help but empathize now with the reluctance to start up conversation Aomine had seemed to sport then. Words seemed altogether too cheap to be able to do anything about the current situation, for better or worse. They wouldn’t take back the actions that had put him in this bed and forced him to contemplate a lifetime confined to a wheelchair, never to run or jump or even take another step, for the rest of his days. He hadn’t appreciated enough the supple, easy strength and support his legs had always provided; he had taken such gifts for granted, and now they had been taken away.

He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to break down and scream.

 

X

 

“I thought this was what you wanted, Kagami.”

 

Kagami grit his teeth, clenching his hands on the metal rims of the wheels on either side of him, “What I _wanted?_ I _wanted_ this to never happen in the first place!”

 

Aomine sighed, likely used to the sporadic explosions of his frayed temper by now, after weeks of having to watch him struggle and simmer with resentment and fury over his fate, never more than a hair’s breadth away from snapping or breaking down. He hadn’t been in the room when one of Kagami’s worst outbursts had led to him collapsing and being unable to get back up, but he had rushed to his side nonetheless and hauled him -- enduring his protests and shouted profanity all the way -- back into his wheelchair. Now, he hardly ever left his side, even when he was asked to, and even though Kagami hadn’t pulled a similar stunt since, his mood was not improving.

 

“I know,” Aomine conceded, “But it did. What I mean is, you’re lucky you have the option of rehab at all...and you’ll be able to walk again --”

 

“Yeah, with crutches,” Kagami snapped, “It’s not the same, it’ll _never_ fucking be the same.”

 

Aomine looked down at him for a moment, then crouched slightly so that he was at his eye-level, and though he was still seething, Kagami saw the gentle, patient glow of love and relief in the blue gaze he fixed him with.

 

“Don’t start,” Kagami muttered.

 

“I’m just glad you’re okay, Baka,” Aomine said soberly, resting a hand on top of his, circling the rim of the wheel it held to prevent him from backing away.

 

“I’m crippled,” Kagami spat, glaring at him.

 

“Yeah,” Aomine agreed, knowing by now that arguing that fact got him nowhere, “But you’re _okay._..it could have been so much worse.”

 

Clenching his teeth, Kagami shoved his hand away and harshly spun his left wheel, turning himself away from his aggravatingly calm boyfriend. Could he not _see_ that…? Did he not _care_ that…?

 

“I’ll never play basketball with you again,” he said flatly, looking down at his own legs with equal measures grief and contempt, “I’ll never walk you to the train station again, or race you home...or dance at our wedding, or s-stand on my toes to kiss you…” He reached up to cover his eyes, but there was no doubt in his mind that Aomine had heard the shake in his voice, and seen the moisture building in them just the same.

 

“I know,” Aomine said quietly, walking around his wheelchair to face him again, “...But you’ll still love basketball, and you’ll still send me off in the morning, and meet me when I get home. We’ll still have a wedding, and well…I still see plenty of kissing in our future.” So saying, he leaned down to do just that, but Kagami pulled away.

 

Aomine paused, as if considering whether to pursue him or leave him be, and then frowned, “Kagami...you need to stop taking this so hard. Your life isn’t over just because you can’t walk.”

 

“Easy for you to say,” Kagami retorted, hands resting threateningly on his wheels again, telling him without words that he would leave if Aomine kept patronizing him. The resignation that crossed the bluenette’s face told him his message was heard loud and clear, and Aomine switched tactics.

 

“Is it?” he asked, in little but a whisper, locking eyes with Kagami meaningfully.

 

For a moment, Kagami was silent, as flashes of the past flickered unspoken between them, of struggle and suffering and helplessness, and then he sighed. “That’s different...you were...you made a choice.”

 

“So did you,” Aomine pointed out, “You didn’t have to stop practicing just because I did. You didn’t have to join a professional team when you were in worse shape than you’d ever been, you didn’t have to lie about your health records just to stay in the starting lineup, or push yourself so hard when you were already injured…”

 

Kagami blinked, “H-how did you know that?”

 

Aomine rolled his sharp, indigo eyes with a patient sort of teasing, “It’s like you forget I live with you and watch your every move when you’re around me. I noticed you were limping, even if the coach didn’t...and yet you still tried to play.”

 

“And I’m sure your crime science classes have nothing to do with your new deduction skills,” Kagami said sarcastically, but his voice had lost a lot of its bite.

 

“‘Course not,” Aomine smirked, leaning forward again expectantly. This time, Kagami just sighed and closed the distance, lightly pressing their lips together.

 

“I’m still pissed off,” he muttered as he withdrew.

 

Aomine inclined his head, and gradually stood up straight before him, his gaze turning sympathetic for the first time all day, “Yeah, I know.”

 

X

 

“I said _one_ knee, dumbass,” Kagami growled, pressing his hands harder against Aomine’s shoulders to hold himself up.

 

“Okay, okay,” Aomine grumbled, but carefully guided and positioned his stiff, barely working legs as he asked, “Don’t be so pushy. Put your weight on that,” he indicated the edge of the coffee table with a tilt of his head, and Kagami did as he said and braced against it with one hand. “So what’s this about?” he asked as he removed Kagami’s other hand from his shoulder, which Kagami immediately slipped into the pocket of his jacket.

 

“Stand up,” he commanded, closing his fingers on the object in his grasp.

 

Aomine blinked, and then leered flirtatiously, “Oh, so we’re playing _that_ game, are we?”

 

Sputtering, sure he’d spontaneously flushed to the roots of his hair, Kagami grit out a flustered curse and looked at him exasperatedly, “No, Aho, we’re not playing that game. Just do it, okay?”

 

Confusion and suspicion evident on his prematurely-lined face, Aomine shrugged, and got to his feet, towering over Kagami where he’d asked to be positioned, kneeling on the floor. As he looked down at him, concern started to cross his face, likely that Kagami was in pain in what was now a terribly unnatural pose for him, or that he would be unable to get up again.

 

“Kagami, what --”

 

Pulling the small velvet box quickly from his pocket, Kagami held it out to him, but was unable to open it as his other hand was occupied keeping him upright. It didn’t matter. They both knew what it was.

 

Aomine’s eyes widened, “You --”

 

“Aomine,” Kagami began seriously, taking a deep breath, “...Daiki. We’ve both been through some tough shit these past few years, and we’ve stuck with each other through everything. We’ve held each other up, and helped each other get better, and I want...to keep doing that, for the rest of our lives. I love you. I love every stupid, reckless, hardheaded, beautiful part of you, and I think I have from the moment I stepped onto the court with you and saw you play with a smile. So...I figured it was about time I asked if you would marry me, for real.”

 

Speechless, Aomine reached out and took the box from him, opening it delicately with subtly trembling hands to reveal a plain gold band, beautiful in its promise and its simplicity, nestled inside.

 

Kagami swore he heard the bluenette’s jaw creak when he spoke, “...Yes?” he croaked finally, like it was a question, before his voice strengthened with conviction and he met Kagami’s imploring gaze steadily, “Yes, I...of course. Of course I will.”

 

Kagami breathed out a deep sigh, almost sagging under the enormous rush of relief that hit him, though really, he shouldn’t have been surprised by that answer, considering. “Good,” he said, “Then get down here and kiss me, you idiot.”

 

All but staggering in his haste to obey, Aomine fell to his knees before him and threw his arms around his shoulders, bringing their mouths together eagerly and immediately delving inside Kagami’s with his tongue, as though desperate to taste him and his promises of tomorrow.

 

After a moment, Kagami had to break away to breathe, “D-dumbass,” he panted, glancing at his arm braced against the coffee table, shaking as it struggled to support them both, “You’re gonna tip us.”

 

“Relax,” Aomine murmured, dipping his head to graze their lips together again briefly, “I won’t let you fall.”

 

Looking into bright, sincere blue eyes, Kagami found that he believed him...and believed that he would continue to support him, in every way he could, for the rest of their lives.

  
  


X

 

They had a month left in America to plan the ceremony, before they both intended to move back to Japan. Kagami’s career playing for the Lakers had ended with his catastrophic fall, and they had no other reason to stay. Aomine was willing to transfer universities and continue training to work for the police force, and with all their friends and families an ocean away, the day couldn’t come soon enough for either of them.

 

But when it did come, it drove both of them into a state of panic. Aomine had called dibs on Kuroko as his best man, and Kagami had heard from him that the darker bluenette was pacing in his hotel room, completely unable to remember his vows, and had gotten rid of the cards he’d written them on. Kagami, for his part, was convinced he’d misplaced his cane and was fretting about having to stumble down the aisle on crutches, until Tatsuya pointed out that he’d been holding it the entire time, and had even used it to poke around and behind things in his search.

 

 _“What’re you so nervous for?_ ” his brother in all but blood --  now his best man -- asked then, in rather slurred, choppy English, tilting his head to the side with an amused smile, _“It’s Aomine, remember?”_

 

 _“Yeah,_ ” Kagami agreed gravely, attempting to straighten his tie with his only free hand, “ _That’s the point.”_

 

Tatsuya shrugged, leaning up to adjust it for him and smoothing down the collar of his suit, _“Lose the stiff formality and just be yourself, Taiga. That’s who he’s marrying.”_

 

 _“I swear, if he screws this up, he’s going to get hit in the balls in front of the whole Generation of Miracles and everyone else,”_ Kagami muttered, clenching his fingers on the handle of his cane.

 

 _“That’s more like it,”_ Tatsuya laughed, _“But really, try to relax and just go with it. Today’s about the two of you, it doesn’t have to be perfect.”_

 

 _“Gee, thanks,”_ Kagami said sarcastically, rolling his eyes, but by the time they left the hotel and headed for the chapel, his shoulders had loosened up and he couldn’t stop smiling.

 

X

 

Aomine’s white suit was striking against his dark skin and navy hair, more so than Kagami’s was with his rather lighter tones, he thought. As soon as he stepped up to face his giddily grinning fiancée, he couldn’t take his eyes off of him for the rest of the ceremony, caught by the nerves and excitement and love and hope in his weathered, but still youthful face. And it was plain to see that Aomine had eyes only for Kagami as well, roving over him constantly and seeming to cherish and treasure everything he saw.

 

The next few minutes went by in a blur of white noise, white lace, and white teeth showing stark against Aomine’s dusky face. They spoke their vows with practiced, almost robotic ease, but when it came down to saying those two short, but devastating words that would bind them forever, Kagami felt a surge of anticipation and nervousness that rivaled this morning’s blind frenzy coil in his stomach.

 

_“Kagami Taiga, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”_

 

Kagami remembered to breathe, wondering if a lifetime would ever be long enough to memorize Aomine’s face, as he gazed at him like a starving man before a banquet. The English words were relatively unfamiliar on his tongue, but he spoke them with more certainty and conviction than he ever had in his first language. _“I do.”_

 

_“And Aomine Daiki, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”_

 

Aomine wet his lips; Kagami could almost see him sweating as he processed the enormity of this moment, but when he spoke his dark eyes were shining with joy and determination, _“I do.”_

_“Then by the powers vested in me, I pronounce you are now married. If you wish to seal this marriage with a kiss, you may now do so.”_

Aomine had barely waited for the last word to leave the justice’s mouth before he stepped forward, taking Kagami by the shoulders as they came together like celestial beings caught in each other’s gravitational pull; undeterred, unstoppable, and shattering into a thousand raw, explosive pieces upon impact. The kiss itself was slow and gentle, almost chaste, but full of more passion and desire and pure, radiant love than many of their deeper ones.

 

They broke apart as entirely new people, sharing with each other a piece of themselves, both of their faces flushed as they stared into each other’s eyes and grinned like fools.

 

“Daiki,” Kagami murmured after a moment, naming his husband for the first time.

 

“Taiga,” Daiki whispered in agreement, apparently unable to resist leaning in and stealing another kiss. And another. And it was only after the third that Kagami pointed out that they should probably step down and let Kuroko, who was fixing them with an amused but also rather steely look, recite the speech he’d been going on about all week.

 

X

 

Daiki had insisted Kagami dance with him, just once, even if he could only hold one of his hands so he could balance with his cane, but it was Kuroko who had suggested he stand on Daiki’s feet, like a child learning the steps on their father’s shoes. Kagami had been on the verge of tearing the little bastard a new one, until he glimpsed how much Daiki seemed to like the idea, seeming relieved, in fact, though the idea of him stressing over something as trivial as a dance was a little strange.

 

If there was one upside, it was that, for maybe the first time, he was taller than Daiki by a good few inches. Daiki didn’t seem to mind; nor did he seem to mind that Kagami’s considerable weight made it rather difficult for them to do much more than sway in place...he just held Kagami close, resting his chin on his shoulder, and if Kagami wasn’t mistaken, even closing his eyes contentedly. He was reminded of an instance a year ago, at a certain Christmas party, when he’d surprised Kagami by asking out of the blue if he wanted to dance; further surprising him by actually following through...and now this. He made a mental note to keep it in mind as a potential interest of Daiki’s, and to bring it up to him later, but for now, he decided to follow Daiki’s lead -- quite literally -- and just enjoy the moment.

 

“Taiga?” Daiki prompted eventually, not having to raise his voice above a murmur, as he was rather close to Kagami’s ear.

 

“Hm,” he responded, only realizing he had closed his eyes as well when he had to blink them open to see his expression.

 

“Do you see what I meant, now?”

 

Kagami blinked, “By what?”

 

“That even though you can’t walk anymore, it’s not the end of the world.” Smoothing one hand against Kagami’s shoulder blade, he turned his head to lightly kiss his neck, as his feet shifted under Kagami’s; guiding him and holding him up, as he had done before.

 

Kagami was silent for a moment, thinking about today, and tomorrow, and the years that would follow, and knew, beyond a shred of doubt, that Daiki would be there through all of them, holding him up and helping him stand on his own two feet, when he couldn’t do it alone.

 

“Yeah,” he sighed softly, tipping his head down and letting Daiki feel his smile against his lips as he pressed them together lightly, “I do.”

 

Fin


End file.
